Grim Girl
by AnencephalousWriter
Summary: TEMPORARILY DISCONTINUED: I will release the rewritten version eventually. Until then this is on hiatus. You can read the first few chapters if you so wish but it isn't very long. This story is a gender-bender shinigami school scenario.
1. Chapter 1

She looked around in a haze of red fury and heart wrenching misery. The situation came ripping her apart, stabbing at her like little shards. She watched, as her family members were murdered right before her eyes. They were torn limb from limb, no regard for their humanity, their pain. She threw up upon the blood soaked ground, dirtying it even more with her disgust. Her heart was beating near out of her chest. She was comprised of the misty existence of crimson death and piercing emotions. Of raw uncontrollable pain, a deep, shroud-like furious sadness.

Tears cut through the dirt in her face and everything, everything was just too much. So so much. She felt as if she were to burst from all things she had no way of handling. She was utterly helpless. The monster, it smelled of ash and terror, it's eyes blazing with bloodlust. It turned to her and she stopped. She stopped all she was to see its beautiful terribleness. It was there only to bring pain to others and she just couldn't take it anymore. She felt as if she had slipped into a nightmare. But this wasn't merely some fragment of a fevered mind. This was real. The pounding of her heart, the slick, salty taste of blood upon her tongue. She reeled backwards, seeing the monster in all its deathly glory come towards her. She wasn't able to save her family, she would not be able to save herself. She had absolutely no kind of protection against this unearthly beast. She had seen its eyes, soulless and resolute. It would kill her, and to ever consider otherwise would be the mark of an imbecile. It was obvious she couldn't fight it. But there was one thing she could do.

She could rob it of its murder. She saw the need to kill in its every movement, the haughty, jagged, grace of something made to enforce death. She knew it was murdering them for the fun of it. So what could she do? She scrabbled around in the wet, red dirt, fingers closing on a leather grip. Her shivering hands brought it closer. She had to do it quick, before it noticed. So with tired hands, as weak and as strong as they had ever been, she stabbed the blade into her neck. As the world turned black and the pain shot through her, the last thing she saw was a smirk from the beast. As if it were amused by her efforts. Her vision caught a delicate feather, black as her own fate. It brushed her numb face. The crow-like beast had flown away.

She swam towards the light. A great softness enveloped her, brushing away the pain, the dark shards of memory. Then there was nothing.

She was swimming through time, she didn't understand what was happening, it was a jumble of concepts and shapes. Nothing made sense and nothing needed to. She didn't know who she was, it was fluttering away from her, and she no longer cared. There was no control here and she wanted none. It was a sharp, floaty sort of feeling. There was something, a something she needed. What did she need? She ached for it, and knew nothing of it. Then it began to slow, the whirlwind of spiralling colours and ideas twisted to a stop.

A jolting, abrupt halt. Her head fell forward and life returned to her. She didn't want to be here, she didn't want to be anywhere anymore. The thoughts came back, the memories came back. She was surprised about her current state, which was to say, not dead. But she was dead, she must have been. Her eyes stayed closed, she didn't want to accept the reality of the situation she was in. Her family was gone, and she should have been. She could feel her heart jump in pain. It was as if it were partially crippled, leaping with stunted despair. Her eyes were hot, waves of terrible drenching sadness. No, she couldn't do this, she didn't know where she was. She had to stop, to take it all in. Crying could wait for another time. Then she did something that would alter her destiny to a degree she did not yet know.

She opened her eyes.

The world was blurry and pale, shivering like a great glass orb. She could sense uneasiness of others. But where were those others? She couldn't see anything. She grabbed her head, pulling her short brown hair, assuring herself of her own existence. Fuzzy, crackling voices beat at her eardrums. Her inner nostrils felt tender and raw, and the pit of her stomach resounded with anxiety. Then a pressing against her nose, a hooking around her ears. A pair of glasses clicked into place, and the world was clear.

She was in a white room, smelling of sanitizer. She looked down, seeing that she was in a straitjacket. Turning her head to the side she saw that it was not a room, but more of a hallway. It stretched past what her eye could see. She turned her head the other way and saw the same. There was a line of people like her, in straitjackets. One side was comprised only of people wearing glasses, and the other had a person walking down and putting glasses on people, so only the ones nearest to her donned them.

This entire experience was so incredibly strange, she had never felt so out of control. With all the previous events and this too she had just lost everything and knew not where this would take her. She was bewildered, with a strong urge to run into the woods and never return. If that made any sense in this situation. She sort of wanted to struggle in her straitjacket, like many around her. But she saw no point, whatever happened happened and she would wait until her chance to get away from it if it ever came. Even if the escape came in the form of death.

Because obviously she wasn't actually dead. She had died, but she was not dead, it seemed. It was a struggle to form coherent thought, she watched the writhing masses of people around her, the white that was everything contrasted deeply with her own dark thoughts and stretching heartstrings. There was a tautness, a tightness within. Something strange and angry that was ready to snap. A burst of fear and rage that would hurt other people. She hated the straitjacket but at the same time was grateful for it. She wanted to lash out at everyone, but hidden beneath the burning layers of unpleasantness there was nugget of rational thought.

She stayed this way for a while, giving up on pushing aside the memories. The tears flowed from her face, thick and bloody. The sharp metallic smell stung her sensitive nostrils. She relived each moment in horror and revulsion, remembering the petrified look upon her younger sisters face as she was ripped apart. Bile rose in her throat, sour and unforgiving.

Her sister, only two years old, a curly blonde Angel, golden locks that should never have been matted with blood, a pure white throat that should have never been torn. Her limbs should have stayed where they belonged. But that purity was gone, and she would never see the innocent smile again.

Her tears were blood for some reason, thick and warm. Horror flashed behind her eyes every time she blinked. The silence, only interrupted by the ruffling of clothes around ear was calming. Everybody was gagged so there were no screams. After the living hell she had just escaped, the monotony of time was welcomed. It tumbled on, she didn't know how much time had passed, staring at the white walls, vividly recalled her worst nightmare. Perhaps it had never happened. Perhaps she was crazy.

That would explain the current getup sort of. Except for the hallways stretching out to seemingly infinity. Maybe, she thought with a slither of hope, it was a dream. Maybe she would wake up, go to school, live her life. It felt real though. Time continued on, not caring about her musings. It could have been hours or days. She didn't know, time was just a concept that became difficult to keep track of without timepieces to guide her.

She had started to feel hungry after a little while, but now it had reached a frightening degree and her throat was a barren wasteland, without water in sight. This led her to believe a fair amount of time had passed, perhaps a day, perhaps even two. It was hard to say.

Nonetheless, the people around her had all stopped their struggling. They had given up, and their eyes stared out at the wall. Glassy, dazed. Was she the same? Another thing she had noticed was that every straitjacket clad person surrounding her appeared to be male.

She had craned her neck as much as possible with a strange device attached to it, and she could see no one who looked female. Curious. A long time passed, a hollow time, without meaning to it. She watched as the faces of people around became more and more stricken, before finally dropping to despair.

Many of them just fell asleep, some of them becoming very pale. She thought they might be dead.

She was very hungry now and her throat stung with drought. This distracted her from the terrifying imagery that ran rampant through her mind. It dulled the screaming of her family, numbing her slightly.

Then something changed. She looked up, her eyes were as glassed over and as afraid as everybody else's. She saw someone come in, footsteps clacking against the white floor. His hair was purple and voluminous, and his eyes were acidic green. He took the shoulders of someone a few meters away from her, and pulled the boy to their feet, leading him away. He came back after a while, it could have been seconds or minutes, she didn't know. And he pulled another away. This went on for a while.

Then he came to her. He stared down at her, looming and emotionless. His strangely coloured eyes judged her with precise blinking. How was his blinking precise? She didn't know, everything about him just seemed so in place, so perfect. He pulled her up, as he had done with all the others, and led her away. The hallway no longer seemed to stretch out forever, maybe it was just an illusion. She wondered where she would go. Another white room? To while away the hours again? No, not that at all, something unexpected. She left the simple, yet somehow futuristic atmosphere of that place, and came to a sprawling library. It was musty, and colourful. It felt so so homely and the books, there were so many books. She looked closer, all the books seemed to be the same colour. She joined a line of others wearing straitjackets. They all seemed like frightened deer, confused and twitching with an urge to run, but a rational thought telling them that it would not be wise. Another man, -this one with hair long and flowing like cornsilk- stood in front of them. He cleared his throat and spoke.

"I know you must all be very confused, but before I get to explaining this situation. I would like to formally welcome all of you to the Shinigami Soul Dispatch Society."

 **Dun dun duuuuun. Yeah, first chapter. Sorry about lots of things not making sense, I was trying to get the feeling of barely coherent thought across. Cause she was so scared and confused. Usually my similes and such actually make sense. I also apologise for the very slight amount of kuroshitsujiness in this. There will be more mention of the actual thing this is about later. Also I know since I'm writing about something not explained in very much depth in the manga or anime, I will have to make a lot of stuff up. If we later learn more about the Shinigami Soul Dispatch Society, and things I have here are wrong, then oops. Oh well. This story seems like something interesting to write, and I hope you guys like it.**

- **Anencephalouswriter**


	2. Chapter 2

She stared at the others, and listened to the man speak.

"Hello, my name is Markus Taylor. I am the assistant headmaster of this establishment. I am here to explain everything that is happening. We are the school for England's branch of the Shinigami Soul Dispatch Society. I know you must all be befuzzled, but the first thing I want to let you know is that you are dead." A few gasps traveled through the crowd, but no whispers. Nobody whispered because nobody talked to anyone. We didn't want to interact with these other people in our situation. Markus cleared his throat. "You have been selected from many people who killed themselves. You have been given a second chance. The people who did not make it past the selection process are now dead forever. A different sort of death than the one you have. You didn't know this but there was a gas being released into the room you were in. It was a gas that affects seventy five percent of the male shinigami population. And one-hundred percent of the females. It is most commonly produced when a soul is released, which is why female Shinigami don't go out and collect souls. Only those who are immune qualify. Congratulations." She looked down at her feet. What did he mean one hundred percent of the female population was affected? Was that why there were only males? Did they think she was male? Wrapping her head around this was the least of her problems. She was in a kind of daze, since everything was just so unbelieveable. She pushed aside all her worries, her protests. She had slipped into a state of shock and planned to stay that way. Markus continued to speak. "We will allow you to take some time to settle in. Our staff will show you to your dorms and your roommates can explain everything in greater detail." He paused, taking a look around at us all. There were about twenty of us. "If you have any issues you need to settle with the headmaster, then simply walk into his office." He didn't say where this office was or even how to find it. The straitjackets were taken off of everyone, she rubbed her arms, glad for them to be free of their restrictions. Then she heard a squeal. It was not a happy squeal, nor a piglike one. It was somehow guttural, insane and high pitched. A boy. A boy had made that sound. His straitjacket had just come off and he had gone crazy. He was punching people, kicking and screaming and crying with a fierce rage. Some guards she hadn't even noticed were standing by grabbed him. They dragged him, still shouting, away. She put a hand over her beating heart and everything began to sink in. No, not yet she said to herself. Not yet. She would save the breaking through of shock, the smash through numbing water's surface, for another time. Lest she become a beast like that boy. Lest she be taken away to god knows where. A staff member smiled kindly at her.

"Kat, was it?"

"Yes." She answered blankly.

"A rather strange name for a boy, is it not?"

"I'm not a boy, I'm a girl." He raised his eyebrows.

"Another trans one then." She felt like shouting at him that she was not trans and that she was biologically and psychologically female. Instead she humoured him.

"Another?" He gave a quick hard smile.

"I'm sure you will meet them soon enough. Now, I must take you to your dorm, you will be sharing it with two other boys. As it is recruitment day they will have finished classes early in order to greet you. Come along now." She followed him through a long hallway covered in doors with different numbers in them. They stopped at one labeled, 667. She really wished that she had gotten the one just across, just for the joke of it. Oh well. This would be a great place still for her eventual breakdown. More importantly she needed to take her gender up with the headmaster of the Shinigami school she was going to because she was dead. Wait. Did she just think that sentence? This entire thing was so incredibly crazy and she just wanted to sit in a corner and cry. There was nothing to do but push forward. She steeled her nerves and took a deep breath before opening the door.

"Bye." She said to the staff member. She didn't even learn his name, but social skills weren't at the top of her priority list right now. He was probably used to it. She looked inside the door and found it to be largely anticlimactic. There were two boys in here, one was sitting on a desk in the corner, typing away at a laptop. The other was lying on one of the three beds, reading a book. She opened her mouth.

"Hello?" They looked up at her, only now noticing her existence.

"Hi, you must be new. Welcome." Said the one on the bed. He didn't continue his sentence, just going back to his book. Then, almost as if it were a second thought, he looked up and said.

"Oh, the bathroom is just through there if you need to break down or throw up or anything." He smiled slyly. She pulled a hand through her fringe.

"I'm fine." He raised an eyebrow, but made no further comment. And she was fine, she would be until the shock wore off. This entire situation wasn't nearly as crazy as the one prior to it. She just had to accept that many of her loved ones were dead. Her eyes started to collect water. But she didn't want to cry to break down in front of these new people. She wanted to make a good first impression. She saw that there was another bed, next to the two presumably belonging to her roommates. The one she supposed was hers, was the one with only a plain blanket and pillow. Their ones seemed to be customized. It as vaguely exciting that she would do that in future. She went over to it and lay down. Breathing in and out slowly. She had to sort this out.

"Can any of you tell me where to find the headmaster? I have some issues I should bring up with him." The boy over on his laptop snorted softly. When she grunted questioningly the boy reading his book spoke, without even taking his eyes off of it.

"No one knows where the headmaster is. No one gets to meet the headmaster."

"Why?" His eyes flicked over to her.

"Don't ask pointless questions." She shrugged. He didn't seem to be a great talker, but she was no social butterfly either so she abstained from judgement. This boy was of medium build, with dark blonde hair and cruel eyes. His face was all jutting bones and hollow angles. Lending a sort of sharpness, a sort of meanness to it. The boy over on the computer had hanging black hair and a flat nose. He seemed some kind of Asian. On a closer look, he was in fact a filipino. Which was rather strange considering his acidic green eyes. Now that she's thought of it, the other boy shared those same eyes. And she thought that the man before did too. Lots of people had those eyes it seemed. She wondered why this was. She decided that before she took a long nap, she would socialise these people.

"So hello to both of you. Since you haven't introduced yourselves I will start." She made this slightly cutting. "My name is Kat and you two fine young fellas are?" The Filipino boy mumbled.

"My name is Chandler." The other one said grudgingly,

"I'm Stuart. Also, isn't Kat a rather strange name for a boy?"

"Yes. Yes it is." She said plainly, leaving it at that. Then she grabbed her featureless pillow, and laid to rest. She was so utterly mentally weary that she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. But that was not the end of her troubles.

Kat was running through a forest, chased by the nameless beast she had begun to refer to as Crow. He held her organs on his claws and she was dripping everywhere, her body cut open. Still sh'e ran. The trees became thicker and the night darker. Suddenly it reached a point where she couldn't fight it anymore, and she was stuck. Then Crow pounced, finishing the job he had started.

She woke up in a cold sweat, her sister's desperate, pleading face flashing behind her eyelids once again. The black haired boy- Chandler, was looking at her. He spoke softly.

"Do you have the nightmares too? I think we all do. At the start. But they dull, for most people. Sometimes people don't embrace the numbness. They fight it, they fight to stay who they are. But then I wonder, what is so great about them being who they are that they want to stay that way?" He looked up at me, waiting for an answer. I took a deep breath.

"But if you aren't yourself, then who are you?"

"Someone else of course." He said simply.

"I suppose people have a bloated sense of the importance of their own individuality. After all, I am just you with a different brain chemistry, memories etcetera."

"And by the time you are older, perhaps the current version of me will be more similar to the current version of you that the future version of you."

"Perhaps. Living really is pointless if we are constantly dying." He laughed dryly.

"I believe everyone here has already recognised that. Otherwise, they wouldn't be here.'"

"Very true." He looked at me forlornly.

"Don't have the nightmares Kat. For me?"

"No promises." She could already feel herself relax a bit more.

"Would you like me to sing you a lullaby? My mother always did that to me when I had nightmares." He seemed genuinely concerned, a stark contrast to the emotionless machine from the day. What strange behaviour, childish yet motherly somehow. Socially awkward but kind. She decided to throw doubts to the wind.

"Yes, please sing me a lullaby." He smiled. And began to softly sing. The notes were sweet, fluttering through the air like rose petals. They held such love and care in them that she was nearly brought to tears. There was a shift in the music, she knitted her eyebrows. It started with a few misplaced beats and then before she new it, he was singing full out death metal.

"DUN DUN DUN DUN DURRRRR DURRRR RRRRR. DUN DUN dun dun DUUUUUUUUUN RRRRRR." She began to laugh and he stopped. "What? Didn't you like it?"

"I loved it, it was beautiful. You must of had a cool mother." A thought occurred to her. She looked over at the bed a bit further away from her, seeing that surprisingly enough, Stuart was still sleeping.

"Don't worry, he would wake if a boulder dropped onto his head." She smirked.

"Evidently." She honestly felt a lot better now. "Thanks for the lullaby, it really helped. I think I can get back to sleep now." He just smiled. She snuggled in warm to the blanket, still unused to this new environment. As she drifted away on a river of dreams, passing over the shallow end of sleep into its depths. Stuart also went this way. And Kat did not know that he had listened to every word of the exchange between herself and Chandler.

 **And that's a wrap! For now. Yeah, I'm planning to write lots of stuff, and I probably won't post chapters that often considering that I have SO many other commitments. Ugh, I have something everyday of the week and weekend. It's so tiring. I do manage a bit of writing before bed sometimes though, so don't worry you will get these chapters occasionally. That is if anyone reads this. Heh.**

 **-Anencephalouswriter**


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a week, and Kat was starting to get used to life here. Everyone still thought she was a boy, she was desperate to find the headmaster. She wanted to announce her gender to this place, but was afraid of unknown consequences. This was a school riddled with death, for all she knew it could become her fate. While that line of thinking wasn't the most likely, still she wanted to be careful. After all, she had been given a second chance. A truly fresh start, and what a liberating thing it was. Her past haunted her but she had managed to sort of place it in a box of things she avoided thinking about. This box, high upon its shelf, didn't quite work. There was a shifting, a jolting sort of feel to it. Of remembering, of death. It was helpful for the most part, she supposed. Kat looked over at Chandler. He was on his laptop again, typing away furiously. She didn't know what he was doing. Some sort of writing, be it fictional or factual, she was interested. And why would she not be interested in the writing of someone with a double personality? During the day, he wore this emotionless mask. He carried his work ethic in his heart and his soul perched precariously on his sleeve. However, come nightfall, he was a sweet boy. A lovely friend she didn't stay awake for. Stuart, on the other hand, was always unpleasant. He had paid her no heed, acting as if she were beneath him. He seemed very entitled, he must of been rich in his life. That meant nothing now, he was left only with a useless attitude. She looked over at the door, wishing to not have to go through it. But she would, she would have to. Classes started very soon and she couldn't be late. The school environment was very strict. If she was late she would be severely punished. She dragged herself out of bed, releasing a groan. Class structure was strange here, there seemed to be no differentiation between age groups. In fact, there was both a five year old and a forty year old in her class. She worried about the five year old sometimes, after all, what could have driven him to suicide? That was something she wondered about with a lot of people. But she could never ask, and they did not ask her. It was an unspoken rule, obvious etiquette. Her eyes flicked over to Chandler, as he closed his laptop with a soft click. She had just piled her school clothes into her arms to change in the bathroom. When he closed his laptop it meant it was time to go, time to get to classes. That was their system and he expected her to abide by it. She rushed into the bathroom, in a great hurry. Only to find Stuart taking a piss. She closed the door, back against it. Breathing heavily. If only she had gotten up earlier. She had thought that Stuart had left for classes, but here he was. In fact, she was sure he had left. How had he gotten back in without her noticing? He was so strange like that, but this was not the time to muse about such things. Chandler looked at her expectedly. She dived under the sheets, and as fast as she could got changed there. She still had to keep her sex a secret until she could sort this entire situation out. Besides, she sort of… Wanted to be a Shinigami. It was an ambition, a new start. Sure the whole thing was inconvenient but she liked the school. She jumped out of her bed, wearing crumpled clothes and saw that Chandler had disappeared. Dammit! He had left without her noticing. This was terrible. She didn't know her way around this enormous school yet. He had always led her around and she was lost without him. She ran out into the hallway, he was nowhere to be seen. There was only one option. Running back, she shouted at the bathroom door.

"Stuart! Please please please help me!"

"With what?" A calm voice said from behind her. Shit! She jumped in fright.

"There you are!" (Thankfully fully clothed) "Chandler ran off and I don't know where to find my class." She steadied her breathing.

"Nope." He said plainly and walked away, out of the door. When she checked down the hallway, he was gone. What a dick, she fumed. they were going to same classroom anyway. And how exactly bad he disappeared so fast? These people were just crazy like that. Sinking down outside her door, she held her head in her hands. She didn't cry, though once long ago she might have. But she and been through more stress and heartbreak than most, and it had simultaneously toughened and weakened her. She sighed deeply, getting to her feet and brushing off her despair. She needed to search. She probably wouldn't find her class, but it was sure as hell better than doing nothing. If she did arrive she would undoubtedly be very late. Still a better alternative than not showing her face there. She looked down the hallway, hoping to Our Lady Of Perpetual Exemption she would be able to find her way back when she inevitably got lost. On second thought, perhaps searching out her class was a bad idea… She was already walking, fear of punishment pushing her forward. After all, her ideas of what it could be worsened every minute she was away. The halls were winding and complex. There seemed to be no system to how things were set out, which was why finding her class was so incredibly difficult. She knew that she was in room S304. But the problem was that the floors did not correspond with the alphabet. She thought that S floor might be the 32nd floor. It was rather confusing. She had heard that floor 27 was called Cupcake. She wanted to go to class there one day, coming into cupcake23 like a boss. Good reaper, it sounded like a username. When engulfed in her ponderings, she didn't seem to notice much of where she was going. This was very bad. Then a boy appeared. She didn't know his name but knew he was in her class as well. He was the one boy who was always late. He always got caned, sometimes they would hear his shouts of pain from the hallway. He didn't seem to care all that much. He had the hollow, distant gaze of someone who had given up. What was the point after all? They were in this school filled with the dead, the sad, the lonely souls. They had been thrown into this place, opportunity presented like some salvation, some second chance. But that wasn't what itwas. The were being trained to carry out a job many had carried out before. Like cattle for farming, soldiers for war. Sure they could paste things on the walls about the help to society and the status of a god. But that wouldn't change the truth. Maybe grim reapers did get strong, stronger than humans at the very least. But this was a world no one entered willingly. And just thinking about all those lost to the sick beginnings was making her queasy. This was a messed up system and she wished to… What did she wish? She wanted to be that person who made a change, who spoke out. She knew she could be that person. But could she really? There was an overwhelming part of her that desired nothing more than to get through this pace and out the other end in one piece. She didn't want to become like the boy in front of her, watching her inner dialogue with empty eyes. She wanted to persevere, to succeed and inspire many. But she just wasn't that person. She could be but she could not be. It wasn't that simple. The boy, he gazed at her, and something happened. There was a shift in him, seen through the glassy surface of his eyes. They lost some of their dullness, and seemed to brighten with confusion and fear. His stare went from fuzzy to piercing in a moment. That made her remember. She had forgotten, lost in his variations of existence. She cleared her throat, feeling as if she had not spoken forever.

"Do you know the way to our first class?" She asked, saliva seemingly running away from her tongue, leaving her dry and nervous. He simply nodded, looking at her with an inexplicable sense of confusion and almost… Awe. He gestured for her to follow and so she did. They ran to class in a rush of human fury and strangeness. They had shared something before, she wasn't sure what. But something had happened and she couldn't explain it for the life of her. They found strength in each other's lenses clad eyes. Holding true as the cane came down with quick bursts of pain and then slightly longer periods of feigned indifference.

She had made a friend.

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. And Sorry for the short chapter, also, like, no one has reviewed this yet, which understandable since like, two people read it. Maybe one. However, constructive criticism is always welcomed. I'm not gonna demand reviews for getting more chapters, since that's stupid. It always annoys me when people so that. You should be writing to express yourself not only a search for blind praise, gawd. The thing with that dude, I suppose you will have guessed but, I'm just building up potential reverse harem members because I am a lowlife piece of scum. Hur hur hur. We loves the harem. I hope. DON'T LEAVE ME ONE FOLLOWER! I will try to update when I have time. Dunno when that'll be. Ye bye why do I always write such long author's notes I'm stupid seeya I love you all unless you're cannibals because I don't love that cannibal bye.


	4. Chapter 4

The day continued with the same monotony afforded to the one before, and the one before that one. She never thought that being a shinigami would be so boring. She had heard that they were just doing theory work for the start, and then they would get onto some practical, which would be more interesting. And also more dangerous. She had found out the name of the boy she made friends with yesterday. He was called Adam. For such a mysterious and odd fellow, the name was somehow a let down. It was just so ordinary, so simple. I'm sure some would find a great meaning behind it, but she didn't really care about the religious side of things. Adam seemed to be incredibly typical. She drummed her fingers on her desk, considering the same thing she had been considering for a long time. Whether or not she should tell the principal about her gender. Even if she managed to find him, and the chances of that were dubious at best. There still remained that one question. After all, she wanted to be a shinigami, it gave her purpose. And she was afraid of what they're going to do if- no, when they find out. It gave her these little uncomfortable shivers just thinking about it.

Author's note: okay I am sorry. I know that I haven't even finished this chapter, in fact I barely finished the last sentence. I just can't do this with how it is right now. I jumped into this story without a plan and now it's just not a level of writing quality I am happy with. I am not saying I have stopped this story, but I will rewrite it. I'm gonna leave what I have done so far up until it is rewritten. I think I will not release the rewritten version in chapters, but instead give you everything at once. I am so so sorry that i stopped this story, please forgive me. When I started with this I didn't think I would end up liking it so much so I have no plot whatsoever. In conclusion.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!


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